Chapter 55
Chapter Fifty-Five
Thea
Istepped through the portal and onto the bridge just as a gust of oncoming spring air blew my hair back from my shoulders.
The sun was just beginning to set as my feet landed down along the pale-grey limestone, sending tendrils of pink, orange, and magenta beams across the sky.
Behind me, I could hear indistinct sounds of life from the village below, but otherwise it was quiet.
Hyrax’s forces weren’t here.
Still, I looked around me, searching for any threats as my nose wrinkled immediately against the chalky scent that hung in the air.
From the remains of the castle.
Ash was everywhere—scattered along the ground, still hanging in the air from the wind blowing through it. Charred beams and scaffolding still stood in some places, while other areas had been cleared out to prepare for repairs.
The realization that the castle was fully destroyed took my breath away.
It was a corpse of the majesty that had once stood upon that hilltop. A corpse that I had been responsible for killing.
But there was no time to worry about that now. Not when my friends’ lives depended on me finding that weapon and returning to them.
Athene had said the vision of their deaths would come to pass depending on me, and I didn’t intend to bury any more friends.
I spun, searching along the bridge pathway and crevices. I furrowed my brow, head jerking from side to side wildly. The magic of my blade called to me, like a pulsating awareness in the back of my mind. I could feel it so close, and yet...
“Damn it!” I hissed.
It wasn’t here. How could it not be here? How could I be wrong again?
What kind of Goddess didn’t know the seat of her own power? I racked my brain, gnawing on my lip while I searched through every single memory that had formed there over the past year and a half.
I was created and emerged into the Mortal Realm on this bridge.
I woke up in the infirmary.
They took me to the Council, and then to Hyrax’s rooms.
The Peace Ball.
Camilla’s attacks.
Clay’s birth night celebration.
My trials.
Pasnia’s attack.
The lake, maybe, where I’d had my power trial against the Hydraxan? No, that didn’t feel right. I supposed I could check the mountain where Ryla had trained me to use my powers, but...
You are Goddess, yet you expect your magic to behave like that of a Descendant.
My frantic movements slowed as Athene’s words came ringing back to me.
That blade was mine, made from my power. It was an extension of me, and finding it should be as simple as finding an awareness of my own body.
Frighteningly aware of the battle that my friends waged so many miles away, I forced a deep breath into my lungs—forced my heart rate to slow, my nerves to relax. I closed my eyes.
I focused until I could feel that swirling mass of power in the deepest part of my belly. I felt it moving and growing. It spread throughout me until I felt the urge to turn and take a single step forward. Then another. Then another.
Towards the remains of the castle.
My eyes blinked open with a sudden awareness, a deep knowledge of where my blade was, and I took off at a sprint.
Crushed stone and dirt tore into the undersides of my bare feet, sharp and relentless as the ash on the ground burst up in plumes that stained my bare legs.
My tunic snagged against a splinter of a beam and tore, leaving a hole around my midsection as I stepped into the space where Clay’s bedroom had once been.
And skidded to a halt as I took in the figure that waited for me.
Dark boots. Dark clothes. Dark hair.
“Caldrius?” His name was a whisper on my lips, between desperate gasps as I caught my breath.
He lifted his head from where he crouched in the soot. His dark eyes locked onto mine, not a hint of surprise as he took me in, scanning from my bleeding and bare legs to my face.
I wet my lips, stumbling towards him.
He held my gaze as he reached into the pile of dirt at his feet and pulled my blade out of the ashes.
It was magnificent. Glimmering silver steel with an elaborate hilt, engraved in swirls of gold and decorated with those unmistakable Veilstones. My power soared at the sight of it.
“You found it!”
His jaw worked as he nodded, rising from his crouched position.
“When you first told me of the moment Clayton Vail had taken you to his balcony and taught you to summon your powers, I noticed the way your eyes lit up. I saw that sparkle of power that lingered in them. And I knew this was the spot that would be sacred to you.”
I held my hand out expectantly. “Can I have it?”
Caldrius’s fingers flexed along the hilt of the blade as he lifted it to hold it flat in each of his palms.
“A bit longer than a dagger or knife, and yet not quite long enough to be considered a sword,” he noted. “Something in between. I suppose that makes sense for the Goddess who is the embodiment of the space between the realms.”
A sudden chill was working its way down my spine, an icy awareness that had nothing to do with the temperature as he continued examining my blade.
“Caldrius, the blade.” I prompted again, stretching out my hand even further.
He lifted his chin, meeting my gaze through the fan of dark lashes. The look on his face left me shivering.
“I can’t do that, darling.”